


Temper

by 401



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anger Management, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bucky Barnes Feels, Guilt, M/M, Meltdown, Punching, Steve Loses It, Survivor Guilt, Temper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 19:16:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9399095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/401/pseuds/401
Summary: "Now, there was no silence."





	

Steve’s temper was not something Bucky often had to witness. He could tell when Steve was angry, sure; that was not difficult. His jaw would tense and a flush of pink would spread across the bridge of his nose like a sunburn. He would play with his hands more than usual, scratching the skin around his cuticles till they peeled and sometimes bled, but eventually, he would breathe through his nose and swallow whatever was bringing the discomfort, replacing the frustration with quiet. His second shield, as Bucky called it, was his silence.

Now there was no silence.

“Hey, hey, calm down, come on,” Bucky tried to keep his voice at a soothing tone as he looped his arms through Steve to try and avoid him throwing another punch at the wall of their living room.

Steve growled a caustic ‘fuck off’, pushing him back and threw another messy punch, this time getting right through to the concrete.

“Please. Please try and listen to me,” Bucky insisted, desperately angling himself between Steve and anything he could hurt himself on.

Their latest case had done something to the Captain. Everyone had noticed. There were civilian casualties, lots of them. It had been messy, bloody and political. They had come out in a worse position than when they had started and there was a division in the Avenger, sides being taken, opinions being butted.

“You’ve got to cool down,” Bucky whispered, “You’re getting into a complete…”

“This is too MUCH!” Steve shouted, walking away and balling his hands into fists in his hair. He kicked the shield across the room. It embedded itself in the skirting board, taking a chunk of wood with it.

“This is too _fucking_ much,” Steve coughed more quietly, moving his fists down to his eyes and pressing hard.

Bucky hung back, watching Steve slowed and stood still, no more feverish pacing. He just stood in the living room, the dim lights around them casting angular shadows and the breeze from the open window disturbing the stillness. Steve’s shoulders started to shake.

“Nothing I do is good enough, Bucky,” He managed to sob out, his hands shaking.

A droplet of blood ran down from his right knuckle and dropped onto the wooden floor with an audible tap. Bucky made his way across the room slowly, pulling Steve towards him and to the couch.

Steve broke fully as he sat down, his words coming out in fast, ugly sobs that Bucky could not understand. He continued whispering things that he thought would be soothing, but Steve’s breathing still came ragged and wet, his head on Bucky’s lap, tears soaking through his jeans and his torso racking with deep sobs.

“Everywhere I go, people die. Everywhere we work we leave a trail of blood and guts behind us and I can’t do it anymore. Babies, Bucky. Babies and children. I saw a mother holding her dead kid and crying and I just had to run past because I had a job to do,” Steve gasped, his nose sounding blocked and his voice cracking.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Bucky said quietly, running his hands back through Steve’s sweat-dampened hair and putting cold metal fingers on his bitten cheeks.

Steve breathed out a shaky sigh of resignation and got heavier in Bucky’s lap. He pulled his knees up to his stomach a little further. His breathing was slowing a little.

“It is,” Steve whispered, “I started the Avengers; this is all my fault.”

Bucky shook his head and sat Steve up, lying down behind him and pulling them both down into the cradle of the couch. His arm was trapped and going dead but he could not care less.

“Listen to me,” Bucky said, keeping his voice as calm as he could, “You _need_ to listen to me.”  


Steve nodded weakly.

“How many people do you think would have died if it wasn’t for you, Steve? How many lives do you think you have saved over the years?” Bucky asked.

Steve shook his head and sighed.

“Millions, Steve. Hell, probably billions. You have saved the planet from intergalactic warfare for Christ’s sake! The Avengers are almost directly responsible for there still being a human race. There is collateral damage; there always will be and I _know_ you know that,” Bucky continued.

“And even if you hadn’t…” Bucky mumbled.

Steve rolled to face him. As he blinked tears dislodged themselves from his wet eyelashes and dropped to his cheeks.

“Even if you hadn’t you’d still be the most important person in the world to me,” Bucky finished quietly.

Steve bowed his head, tucking it under Bucky’s chin and closing his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Steve mumbled after a while, “I lost it.”  


“Don’t apologise,” Bucky insisted, “I’ve done worse to these walls and you know it.”  


Steve breathed a laugh, closing his eyes once more and easing into the feeling of Bucky carding his fingers through his hair, right from the hairline to the tape of his neck, casting goosebumps over his arms and neck. He tried to match their breathing, adopt the calm of Bucky’s onto his own but his lungs weren’t quite ready yet. His inhales still shuddered with residual tears like a post tantrum toddler. The shaking eased and the room decompressed.

“Stevie?” Bucky murmured.

“Mm?”

“No matter what you do, you’ll always be my world.”

And in that moment, Steve believed it.

 


End file.
